


Darling, I Died For The Sun Rays

by rxinventlove (urwasted)



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, F/M, Guilt, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Time Travel, and just general science shenanigans, pre-snap Bucky/Shuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 12:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16095899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urwasted/pseuds/rxinventlove
Summary: Natasha’s got nothing left, both SHIELD and the Red Room have long since fallen, and James is nothing but dust at her feet. What’s left of the Avengers are trying to pick up the pieces in the aftermath of Thanos’ destruction. Taking refuge in Wakanda, Natasha agrees to help in whatever way she can, but falling in love with the newly crowned Queen doesn’t seem to be helping anyone; least of all Natasha herself.While Shuri struggles to balance an entire kingdom on her shoulders and desperately tries to bring her brother back, she finds safety in the arms of the infamous Black Widow. Secret meetings and stolen moments in quiet corners slowly become more than just a coping mechanism, but when Shuri’s sure the final tendrils of grief are fading Natasha starts to pull away from her. As the last of Earth’s mightiest heroes finally start making headway in reversing the snap, Shuri must deal with the return of Bucky Barnes—both of the girls former lover—and a steadily retreating Natasha.





	Darling, I Died For The Sun Rays

Never let it be said that Natasha Romanoff doesn’t keep her promises.

 —

 The dust seems to settle over them like a blanket, the blood of fallen soldiers still slowly spills underneath her feet, soaking into the deep Wakandan soil. These were the lucky ones, Natasha supposes. At least they had understood what was happening, had died an honourable death.

 She tries not to imagine what James had felt, tries not to picture his face. She hopes it didn’t look the same as it had all those years ago.

 Natasha tells herself looks like those were saved for mother Russia.

 It’s just seven of them now: the original Avengers, minus Tony and Clint, Rhodey, Okoye, and a raccoon. She doesn’t really want to think about that any more than necessary. The field seems to go on for miles and miles around them, the remaining soldiers staggering in the same direction; towards the city.

 Towards safety, and towards _her_.

 Natasha doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the bright orange of her clothes, how it burns her eyes and makes her want to vomit. Much too good for this place she knows.

 It’s probably a hallucination, Natasha thinks, sick with grief and drained to the core, but she swears light shines out from the new Queen like a halo. Like she just stepped out of the sun, warm and untouchable and everything the world is missing. It’s gone in a second, so fast she’ll never be sure if she really saw it, but it echoes around in her brain and behind her eyelids.

 Shuri takes one look at the group of them and stumbles to get her arms around Okoye’s shoulders. Her body is shaking when she pulls away, cheeks tear-stained, and face open with concern.

 “Where’s Bucky?” The princess looks increasingly frantic, eyes wild and jumping from face to face, realizing there’s face missing in the crowd. “Captain, where is Bucky?”

 Steve just shakes his head.

 “T’Challa?”

 —

 And Natasha promised herself she wouldn’t cry.

 So she doesn’t.

 —

 Shuri invites all of them to stay, and they accept readily.

 The Captain, Rhodey, and the handful of remaining Dora Milaje are sent to aid in the efforts to rebuild. It’s interesting to watch Okoye and the Queen argue—if you could even really call it that, but in the end Shuri is the Queen. She’d told Okoye to go, and so she did. Natasha agreed it made the most sense, Wakanda was in shambles, and as much as Steve and Rhodey could help physically, neither of them spoke a word of the native language.

 It’s hard to watch them go, but she knows it’s best for Steve. It hurts her soul to see him so drained emotionally and so keyed-up physically, and it was what he needed. The Queen really has done what’s best for all of them.

 She gives Thor and the Rocket—the raccoon, as she now knows—their own personal lab in the palace. They’re going to try and track down the remaining Asgardians, try and rally an army for the future. Natasha doesn’t know how successful they could really be, but they’re in the tech capital of the world, if they’re going to find them anywhere it’d have to be here.

 That left Bruce in Shuri’s lab with her. After the first few days they announce they’ve come up with some theory, it’s long and arduous, but when it boils down to it they’re trying to create a time machine. It’s not as exciting as it really should be.

 And Natasha, well Natasha has absolutely no fucking idea what she’s doing here.

 The Queen has assigned her as a glorified bodyguard, to watch over her and Bruce in the absence of the Dora. It makes sense up to a point, she’s perfect for the job, until you realize there’s no threat. Shuri’s lab is the most technologically advanced place in the world, and it’s fun, but only to a certain extent.

 Natasha’s version of fun really doesn’t involve endless holograms and formulas.

 The place is so quiet, not just the lab but the entire city. It grates on her ears the first few days, the lack of _anything_ , all of the doorways are secure, the vents regretfully missing an archer decked in purple. There’s no gentle whirring from James’ arm and none of Sam’s friendly chatter. It’s just her own mind and the clicking of pens. Bruce had insisted on writing things down on paper, and Natasha‘s secretly glad for it.

 The beginning with Bruce is rough, awkward and stiff even just being in the same room as him. With the way they left things the uncomfortable itch under her skin seems like it’s never going to go away, but eventually things smooth out.

 Because the fact is, Shuri‘s funny. Even under the stress of trying to bring back half the universe, she’s bright and youthful, so much so that Natasha can’t help but be drawn towards her. Soon she spends less time avoiding eye contact with Bruce and more time with the new Queen, she walks her back to her room after late nights in the lab, they eat pizza Shuri’s flown out from New York together—the good stuff, the kind that made Tasha feel at home when Clint first brought her there.

 It’s sweet and refreshing and makes Natasha feel simultaneously huge and small at the same time. Maybe it’s because the girl’s larger than life, smarter than even Tony was and with a mouth to match his too. She can be dirty when she wants and sometimes it catches Natasha off guard.

 She’s surprised one day to find they have a routine now, and for the first time it’s not a bad thing.

 —

 They’re making steady progress on the time machine, something that still makes her head spin. This girl is building a time machine, and Natasha gets to watch. Suddenly the days get less boring.

 They spend unending amounts of time in the lab, going over the same lines of code and drinking at least three gallons of coffee a day.

 The first time Shuri falls asleep at her desk Natasha ends up carrying her to her room.

 It’s hours after even Bruce has gone to bed, the lights in the lab are dimmed down at Natasha’s request, had been for some hours now. She doesn’t nap, but it’s nice to be able to close her eyes in peace.

 She doesn’t notice anything for a while—which is bad, Natasha knows, she’s getting lazy—but eventually it’s just too quiet, even for the lab. There’s none of Shuri’s muttering or the strange whooshing of holos, just nothing. A quick scan of the room yields nothing, it’s just her and Shuri—oh.

 The Queen is drooling on the table.

 It’s so ridiculous that Natasha can’t help the giggle that escapes her, it’s small but once she starts she can’t stop. Maybe it’s because she’s been up for two days, it’s definitely the reason Shuri’s passed out mid-typing, but her chest is shaking and she can’t control it. Her sides hurt with the effort to stay quiet and her smile is so wide it feels like it’s going to spilt her face.

 Once the giggle fit passes, she realizes she can’t just leave Shuri here, curled into herself over the desk. It’s not like Shuri weighs much, even standing two inches taller than Natasha it’s not hard to carry her. Natasha’s gentle with handling her, hands under her knees and face tucked into her shoulder, but the entire walk is still spent in fear of waking the Queen. Steps light and quiet, she walks down the halls of the palace, the route to Shuri’s room memorized from what now had to be months of walking her back.

 Shuri’s so warm she almost doesn’t want to let go when they get there, peaceful and relaxed in sleep, a way Natasha’s never seen her.

 Tucking her in feels personal, the room smells sweet like candy, and the bed itself concentrated with _her_. The blankets are glowing gold, cushiony under her hands when she pulls them up around her shoulders.

 The goodnight she kisses into Shuri’s forehead feels good, spreads warmth out through her limbs like fire.

 It happens often after that, almost every night for several weeks. She’s always pliant in Natasha’s arms, soft and open and everything Natasha’s never had. She tries to ignore how it makes her feel, inexplicably warm and dirty. This is just a girl, the Queen of an entire nation, carrying the fate of the world on her shoulders, and she doesn’t need the added stress of Natasha’s affection. She’d destroy her, Tasha knows it, but it doesn’t stop her from wanting.

 Sometimes she thinks Shuri feels the same way, when she catches her staring out the corner of her eye or how she swears Shuri had tightened her hands in Natasha shirt one night; trying to draw her into bed like a child holding onto their mother.

 Natasha wishes she hadn’t wanted to stay.

 Because really she does want, so bad that it hurts. Here’s this woman—this girl—hard as steel and gorgeous as marble, right in front of her. She gets to see Shuri smile, and it’s blinding like staring into the sun.

 It’s one particularly late night, Bruce long gone, and Natasha’s reading a book over by the big windows overlooking the mine. Even the vibranium trains that run underneath the lab have shut down for the night and she’s sure she’s read the same sentence over twelve times. There’s a small noise from across the room and then a crash. Her head snaps up, but there’s nothing there.

 It’s just Shuri.

 She’s on the floor, kimono beads smashed out around her and holos all around her head. They disappear when she angrily swipes a hand through them, all the formulas vanishing with the flick of her wrist.

 “Your Majesty? Are you okay?”

 “Bast! Of course I’m not! I—fuck, I’m never going to bring him back. He’s dead and I can’t do anything about it, Natasha he’s gone, he’s—“

 And Natasha knows she should feel bad, knows this is wrong. She understands there’s something not right with her, but she can’t help it. She’s up out of her seat quick, it only takes her three long strides to get to Shuri, and in one swift movement, she’s curled herself next to the Queen. Up close she can see the tear tracks, her eyes are red and shiny, and every other detail of her face is as clear as day. Natasha wants to know where she got the scar on her forehead, wants to know every single thing about her, but there’s something more important right now.

 “Shuri? Breathe for me, I want you to breathe, in and out just like I’m doing, and then I want you to tell me what’s wrong. Is it T’Challa?’

 “It’s Bucky.”

 And Natasha’s heart drops.

 It’s like she’s been thrown into the ocean, cold and unrelenting, and maybe this is what it had felt like for the Captain. She’s not sure if it’s the name or the look on Shuri’s face that hurts more, and Natasha doesn’t know how she hadn’t realized it before. Of course she was in love with someone else, James of all people, and really it hurts like a million tiny needles.

 When did she get this invested?

 She takes Shuri’s hands in the way she knows she really shouldn’t. Holds them tight and doesn’t let go, not even when she speaks again.

 “You’re going to find a way. T’Challa and James and everyone else, it’s going to be you,” and Natasha hesitates for a minute, listens to the voice that sounds suspiciously like Barton before throwing all of it to the wind. She brings Shuri’s hand up to her chest, splays her finger out wide to feel the beat of her heart. “Do you feel that?” Shuri nods uncertainly, cautious and trusting in the way Natasha wishes she didn’t. “I know you’re going to figure this out. As long as my heart beats you’re going to figure this out, I promise.”

 And Natasha Romanoff never breaks a promise.

 “You shouldn’t say that.” It’s barely a whisper, but Shuri’s so close it’s audible in the space between them. When did she get so close?

 “Why not?”

 “Because you’re going to be disappointed in me.”

 “I’ve never been disappointed in you, and no one will be if it takes a while to figure this out.”

 Shuri’s face is downcast, and Natasha wishes she would just look at her.

 “What if I told you I didn’t want to bring him back?”

 When she finally looks up emotion in her eyes is crystal clear; fear, so much fear, but her pupils are dilated wide with something Natasha can’t quite place. If she didn’t know better she’d think it was desire. Shuri’s just so, so close, and it’s messing with her head.

 “You don’t mean that.”

 “I do, and that’s the worst part. I don’t want him to come back. I don’t want him, I want y—“ Her words a drawn back with a sharp inhale, eyes going impossibly wider. Natasha tries to pretend she doesn’t t see Shuri’s eye flash down to her lips, but the urge to do the same is tempting.

 “You don’t know what you’re saying.“ She makes to pull away, even gets a few inches of space between them before Shuri’s grip on her hand tightens, yanks her closer and straight back into Shuri’s mouth.

 It only lasts a few seconds, but Natasha doesn’t think she’ll ever forget how Shuri’s lips are soft under hers or the scent of her perfume, sweet like cherries right under her nose.

 This time when Natasha pulls away Shuri doesn’t hold on.

 “You’ve been awake for too long, your Majesty, I assume you can find your way to your room just fine?” It sounds cold even to Natasha’s ears, but she doesn’t know what else to do.

 “Natasha, I’m sorry I didn’t—“

 “Goodnight.”

 Shuri’s face is heartbreaking and Natasha all but bolts out the lab, feet too loud in the desolate hallways.

 Her bed feels colder than usual that night, and she doesn’t even bother promising herself to stay away, because she knows she could never keep it.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> find me on tumblr babes! [bruhhemianrhapsody](https://bruhhemianrhapsody.tumblr.com)


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